


The Family Business

by sponsormusings



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Prompts in Panem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sponsormusings/pseuds/sponsormusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss Everdeen had absolutely stolen Peeta's breath and made his heart tumble to his feet the minute he’d laid eyes on her, when she'd applied for a job at his family's hotel. But despite the fact that he was desperately attracted to her, he couldn’t make a move. It was wrong. It was inappropriate. He was her boss.</p><p>And she already had a boyfriend.</p><p>A submission for Prompts in Panem, round 8. Day 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Family Business

It was the buzzing of his phone against the top of his bedside table that dragged him unwillingly from sleep - without even opening his eyes, Peeta Mellark stretched out an arm, clutched at the phone and dragged it back under the covers with him.

“‘Lo.”

“Peet, it’s Ethen.”

He sighed, long and low and deep, then attempted to clear his throat. “Dude, it’s my _one_ Saturday off this month. Let me sleep in.”

“Yeah, well, I got woken up before my alarm too, so cry me a river.”

Peeta threw the covers off, but still refused to open his eyes. If it didn’t _look_ like morning, he could pretend that it wasn’t. “Alright, what is it?”

“Mitchell’s sick. Food poisoning.”

He screwed up his nose in distaste, even though he knew it was for no one’s benefit but his own. “Dammit, he went to that new fusion place on Snow Avenue, didn’t he? The one we warned him wasn’t up to code.”

“Bingo.” On the other end of the line, Ethen Mellark sounded a combination of exhausted, resigned and annoyed. And it wasn’t even 9am yet.

“Shit.”

“I know. Look, I wouldn’t normally ask you, I know you deserve the day off. But Homes and Amanda are both out of town and-”

“When do you want me there?”

The relief in Ethen’s reply was palpable. “We were already down one on the lunch shift, so if you could go in at about 11, do some prep, help out on the floor before dinner-”

“I’ll be there at 11.” Peeta cut his brother off again, otherwise he knew Ethen would be off on a tirade about lack of staff and wishing he’d never agreed to give people the weekend off. “Now I’m going back to sleep for an hour.” He pressed the end call button, dropped the phone back on the table, and cocooned himself in the blankets again.

Sometimes owning your own business was a bitch.

********

Later, as Peeta stood in the middle of his kitchen, sipping at a hot mug of tea - _milk, no sugar_ \- munching on a two day old muffin and scrolling through the news headlines on his phone, he knew that there was going to be only one silver lining to working on his Saturday off.

********

“Your girlfriend just got here.”

Peeta rolled his eyes, kept kneading the dough on the flour dusted bench in front of him. He’d had this discussion with his brother a million times already, and would undoubtedly have it another million times more, and he didn't have time right now to listen to this BS. It was already midday, and he had rolls to bake and desserts to start prepping for tonight's service. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s right, of course she isn’t.” Aaran Mellark - the middle brother, and self-proclaimed ladies’ man of the family - leant against the door leading to the walk-in refrigerator, folding his arms across his chest. “Because you still haven’t manned up enough to ask her out yet; you just keep pining after her like you’re a 16 year old virgin.”

“It would be inappropriate.”

“Why and how, exactly?”

This time, Peeta looked up, annoyance clear in his bright blue eyes. The last thing he wanted today was his brother busting his ass over this. “Because she’s our employee, Aaran. It wouldn’t be right.”

Aaran ran a hand through hair that was close to becoming long enough to pull back into a ponytail. “Well, I can’t remember us ever including that in the employment contracts. Because if we have, oops! I’ve broken that clause a number of times.”

“I know you have.” Peeta stepped back from the counter and brushed his hands on the front of his apron, remembering the two waitresses Aaran had juggled the summer before. “But I’m not you, and you’re not me, and I’m happy just being friends with Katniss.”

“Sure you are,” Aaran grinned. "But maybe she's not."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I just like yanking your chain. Maybe she _doesn't_ stare after you when you leave a room."

"What? What are you even talking about?" He felt his heart speed up quickly, then slow down again just as fast. Of _course_ he was just yanking his chain. Katniss didn’t pay any more attention to him than she did anyone else. "You're such an asshole, Aaran. We're just friends, and that’s all. I'm absolutely fine just being friends with her."

Aaran turned, opening the door to the fridge before moving inside, his voice echoing back out to Peeta. “Alright, whatever. Keep telling yourself that.”

And Peeta would. But he knew it wasn’t the truth.

********

_The Mellark Arms - The MA for short - had been a Panem staple for as long as anyone could remember, a small hotel/bar/restaurant on the outskirts of town that had a steady but loyal clientele, and appealed to travellers heading towards the Capitol to the west, or the mountains to the north. Originally opened by his grandparents, his parents had eventually taken it over and - when they were ready to retire - had handed it over to their three sons. His mother had been unimpressed that she was relinquishing it to three bachelors (“Why I was lumped with a group of men with no interest of providing a new generation to hand the legacy over to anytime soon, I’ll never know” was her favoured complaint), but his father had insisted. After a heart scare, Nolan Mellark had refused to take any more risks - Florida was the intended retirement destination and he was going to make sure they made it there. And two years earlier, they finally had._

_Originally inspired by the old fashioned English pubs and hotels his grandparents had fallen in love with during their honeymoon, the Mellark Arms had always been filled with dark panelling, old-fashioned four poster beds with floral bedspreads and low, romantic lighting. And while their parents had been happy to continue that tradition, the three Mellark brothers had decided that if they were going to make this their livelihood, if they were going to spend virtually every day of the foreseeable future there, they wanted to make it their own._

_The inspiration they’d wanted to keep, but bit by bit changes had started to be implemented and renovations had begun. The bar still had that feeling of an English pub, just with a modern twist - the panelling remained, albeit on a smaller scale and highlighted by the freshly painted biscuit coloured walls, new bench seats covered with brightly striped cushions and fireplaces with wide wooden mantles. The restaurant was remodelled with a light colour palette, sturdy dark wood tables covered in white tablecloths and flickering candle holders, glass doors installed that opened up to gardens overflowing with flowers. It made it feel fresh, inviting, warm, friendly._

_But it was the ten hotel rooms that took up the second floor of the building that had changed the most. They’d all agreed on that, no matter how much their mother had bitched at them about 'throwing history away'._

_Where downstairs retained that nod to tradition, the refurbished rooms now screamed elegance and modernity. Marble baths, rainfall showerheads, pillow menus, heated flooring, extensive soundproofing, beds that were bigger than anything Peeta had ever slept in, all with views overlooking the cultivated gardens, or towards the bustling street below. Now the rooms were, undoubtedly, their biggest drawcard._

_The renovations had cost them more than the inheritance they’d been left from their grandparents, but the brothers had all agreed that, in the long run, it was going to be money well spent. And with their own skillsets fitting into the running of the business almost perfectly - Peeta as primary baker and dessert chef, Aaran as the restaurant manager and the eldest Ethen as the bar and general business manager - the time since they’d taken over had flown by, and things had been going well. At least, it had, until their cousin Delly, the Accommodation Manager, had fallen in love with an Australian and had moved to the other side of the world._

_Therefore, Katniss Everdeen was the first person outside the Mellark family to hold a managerial position within the business in over 40 years._

_It had been 3 months since she’d first walked inside The Mellark Arms; nervous, quiet, but more than qualified and competent to fill Delly’s vacated role.  While interaction with the guests themselves wasn’t her strong point - and she’d readily admitted that in her interview - her attention to detail, planning and ability to think on her feet had made her an ideal candidate. His brothers liked to tease him that the only reason he’d insisted on hiring her over the other applicants had been because he looked like he’d been hit by a truck when she’d first walked in._

_He’d steadfastly denied it, citing her experience and good references, though looking back now, he had to admit the whole hit by a truck thing had been fairly apt. Because Katniss had absolutely stolen his breath and made his heart tumble to his feet the minute he’d laid eyes on her._

_But despite the fact that he was desperately attracted to her, and that the feeling continued to grow exponentially, he couldn’t make a move. It was wrong. It was inappropriate._

_ And _ _she already had a boyfriend._

********

"Oof!"

Peeta rounded the corner, a stack of dirty plates in one hand, the other pushing open the swinging door that led through to the kitchen. He hadn't expected anyone to be on the other side - Aaran and Chris would have been too busy cooking, and Clove was still out on the floor - and he _definitely_ didn’t expect it to be Katniss' head that popped around the opening door, one hand delicately balancing a cheese and cracker laden platter, the other rubbing her nose.

"Peeta! What are you doing here?" She sounded surprised, a little shocked.

"I work here, remember?" he said wryly, as she opened the door in her direction, giving him room to move into the kitchen. His arm brushed against hers slightly, and he fought to hide his reaction of the feeling of her skin against his. It was the same current of electricity, every damn time, and she was utterly oblivious to it.

"But it's your day off, so I wasn’t...oh." She followed him back inside, then looked over to where Aaran and Chris were putting the finishing touches on a handful of meals at the centre island, before her gaze sympathetically returned to Peeta. "You got roped into covering for Mitchell, didn't you?"

"Yup." He dumped the pile of dishes on the counter, scraping the remnants of the meals into the bin and stacking the plates into the industrial dishwasher. He turned back to her, shrugged. "Plus they were already running short staffed today with Amanda and Homes out of town. Just no rest for the wicked, I guess."

She rolled her eyes. "You're hardly the wicked, Peeta. Far from it."

From the other side of the room, he could feel Aaran's eyes on them, glanced over long enough to see his brother pull a lasciviousface. Yeah, he didn't need to give his brother any more ammunition today.

Moving back to the door, and gesturing to Katniss to follow him, they headed out into the dining room, slowly but surely emptying out after the lunch rush. He tried not to focus on the faint scent that always seemed to surround her - lush and fresh, like the woods on a spring morning - the scent that he swore stuck with him for days while he tried not to think of her.

"It’s good you were able to come in," she was saying, and he forced himself to tune back in, and to stop wondering if her skin tasted as good as it smelt. "When I arrived, I thought Ethen was going to have a fit."

"I had no plans," Peeta said simply. "So it's not a bother."

"No plans other than to get a day free from all of us," she quipped.

He felt the flush creep up his neck. He liked it when she joked around - it didn’t happen very often, but when it did, he felt like he was getting to see a side of her so few ever got to see. "My brothers maybe. You? Eh, you’re not so bad."

"A glowing endorsement," Katniss replied.

"An understatement," he corrected.

She shrugged, then looked down at the food platter. "Anyway, I have to get this up to room 6."

"Alright."

"Okay." She walked away without a backwards glance, and he watched her go every step of the way.

Dammit, he was such a goner.

********

It was the afternoon lull between lunch rush and dinner madness. He had two platters of dinner rolls freshly baked and resting, had already prepped the pastry cases for that night’s blackberry tartlets and a Toblerone cheesecake was setting in the fridge. For the most part, his work was done until dinner service began.

Now he was holed up in the office that all four of them shared, flipping through a magazine, half-heartedly looking for recipe inspiration and whole-heartedly avoiding Aaran. The guy was like a dog with a bone, teasing him about Katniss every chance he got.

And though he _was_ thinking about her, he tried to tell himself he wasn’t. Even when she came barrelling through the door, slamming it behind her and slumping into the chair behind her desk on the other side of the room.

“Oh my _goddddddd_ ,” she groaned loudly, her head dropping back against the back of the seat. She dug her heels into the carpet, followed it by a frustrated growl.

“Bad afternoon?” he asked sympathetically, and she startled, swinging her gaze over to him; her eyes widened in embarrassment.

“Damn, I didn’t know you were in here,” Katniss winced. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry. What’s wrong?” He dropped the magazine on his desk, turned his chair slightly so he was facing her fully. There was something about the way she looked all buttoned up in her white blouse, black pants and simple makeup that never failed to make him want to peel her out of it all. Especially now, with the scowl on her face, and the annoyance emanating from her.

He wondered what it said for him that he’d discovered that Fiery Katniss was his favourite.

“Ugh. This guy in room 2 thinks he’s God’s gift to women. His wife/girlfriend/hooker/whatever was in the bathroom ‘freshening up’, and he was hitting on me. _Hitting on me._ While there was _one_ wall separating her from us.”

Peeta’s brows drew together as he frowned, as the fury that some guy was hitting on Katniss surged through him. “That’s not appropriate guest behaviour, Katniss. We should kick him out - we have every right to.” Even as she was shaking her head, he was barrelling on. “I don’t feel comfortable knowing he was making a move on you.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine; he’s just an asshole with a big ego and very likely a small…” she trailed off and blushed, whatever she was going to say lost in the embarrassment of the thought. He had a pretty good idea what she’d been thinking, though. “Anyway, I was professional and polite and reminded him that Glimmer - with a name like that, I think I’m going to go with _paid companion_ \- was just in the bathroom. And then I came down here and had my little tantrum.”

“That was hardly a tantrum. But are you sure-”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “He’s harmless, I assure you. And if he’s not, then I’ll deal with him.”

Peeta grinned. “I have no doubt you can.”

With a sigh, she reached forward, moved her mouse so her monitor sprang to life. “In the meantime, I’m not going to waste any more time on him; I’ve got too much else on to worry about. We’ve got all ten rooms fully occupied - including Dudebro and Ho - and they all made reservations in the restaurant tonight at the time of booking,” Katniss told him, her eyes not shifting from her computer screen. “That’s not even taking into account any of the reservations Aaran would have taken. Plus word has filtered through that Dalton James is having his Bachelor Party tonight, and there’s a good chance they’ll stop by the bar; I think it’s going to be a busy one tonight. I’m sorry you’re walking into all this when you’re not even meant to be here.”

He brushed it aside. “Like I said earlier, I didn’t really have any plans, so I’m not too worried.” Then he blinked, sat up straight. “Wait, did you just say that Dalton’s Bachelor party is tonight?”

“That’s what Jo told me,” Katniss muttered.

“Shit. I _did_ have plans for tonight. I was invited.” He yanked his phone from his pocket, dashed out an apology and a promise of a free round of drinks. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten.

At his words, Katniss glanced over at him, pausing in her typing to tug her braid over her shoulder. “You know Dalton well?”

“Well enough.” He pocketed the phone again. “We went to high school together and he even worked in the kitchen here for a little while before he went away to college.”

She twisted the end of her hair around her finger. “Oh. Sometimes I forget how connected everyone is here.”

“It does feel that way,” Peeta admitted. “Panem is big, but somehow everyone seems to know someone who knows someone who knows someone. And working at what essentially is a meeting place for people means we see a lot of them.”

“And I guess you would have spent pretty much your entire life here, right?”

While they'd talked a fair bit since she'd started, they’d never really shared anything with each other about their pasts, had generally stuck to their lives _now_. Like how she knew that his life _was_ the business, and that painting and drawing were his hobbies in his spare time, and he knew that she had a younger sister who was a first year medical resident and she liked to go to the archery fields on her time off. But their past? It had never come up.

He couldn’t deny that the curiosity had been killing him.

“We visited a lot when my grandparents owned it, and then when Mom and Dad took over, we moved into the house next door, and were basically here full-time. So I’ve seen virtually every person who’s worked here over the last 27 years. Plus all the regulars, and return visitors…” He shrugged. “So yeah, I guess you could say I’ve spent my entire life here.”

“It must be nice, having that connection over all that time,” She mused.

“It’s good,” Peeta agreed. “Did you not have that where you grew up?”

She shook her head. “My dad was in the Army, and we moved around so much that we were never in one place long enough to really form any bonds that were super close. It was just my sister and I. It wasn’t until college and I met Gale and Madge that I really had proper friends, and even then I found it hard to connect with them sometimes. It’s pretty clear my people skills aren’t the best.” She said it wryly, a hint of a smile on her face.

“I think you sell yourself short,” Peeta told her, all the while filing away the new snippets of information and trying not to visibly flinch at the name Gale. “You’re always polite when people check in, and when you’re showing them around, or when you’re on the phone to them.”

“And inside my head, what I’m thinking is nowhere near polite. Especially when they're those douchebags who hit on you, or those who expect room service at midnight.”

Peeta laughed. “People are used to those big hotel chains making food available 24/7.”

“And people don’t realise that, for a small boutique place like this, it’s just not damned doable.” The frustration was evident in her voice, in the flashing of her smoky grey eyes and the way she indignantly straightened in her seat, telling him she’d obviously had a conversation about this recently with a guest.

He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I know, I know! I’m with you on this.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get worked up,” Katniss replied sheepishly. “I guess because I have to be nice to their face, I hold it in a little too much and then it festers.”

“Well, you can always vent to me,” Peeta offered. "You did it just before - you can again. Anytime."

She shook her head. “No, you’re my boss; I probably shouldn’t be that blunt.”

“You can’t use that excuse,” he insisted. “I promise you that you’re welcome to bitch and moan to me any time you want. You’re meant to air your grievances with me. And if you don't want to vent to your boss...well, just think of me as just a friend.”

She nodded, then turned back to her typing. “I might take you up on that friend option,” she said. “The next time someone wants a cheeseburger at midnight.”

“Deal,” Peeta nodded firmly, then picked up his magazine and buried his head in it. He pretended to be engrossed in an article, when all he was doing was repeating _moan to me any time you want_ over and over in his head. And knowing that when he’d said it, he’d known _exactly_ the double entendre he was intending.

Sometimes the small things were what got him through the day.

********

Peeta moved quickly from the office towards the bar, already not looking forward to what was about to happen. The relatively relaxing hour spent in the office in Katniss' company had suddenly gone to hell with the call that had just come through. Moving through the foyer that separated the bar from the restaurant, he stepped up to the length of polished mahogany, cleared his throat. "Jo's on line two, Ethen. Guess who was out for dinner with Mitchell last night?"

From his place behind the bar, Ethen sighed, swore, then reached for the cordless phone sitting beside the register.

"You've got Ethen," he barked down the phone. Peeta watched as the annoyance grew on Ethen's face, listening silently until he blurted out a decidedly lacklustre _feel better_ , and hung up the phone.

"Wow, you're so full of compassion," Peeta quipped, and Ethen scowled at him.

"I _am_ sorry she's sick," he snapped. "But it's Saturday, and we’ve lost two of our best to food poisoning that we bloody well warned them about. I've got no-one else I can call in at this late notice, and we're going to be swamped tonight. Dammit!"

Of the three, Ethen was the most serious, the one with a head for business. He had the quickest temper, but he was also the quickest to get over it. It was like the temperaments of their highly strung mother and laid-back father had merged into the one son, counterbalancing each other.

"I can help."

In surprise, Peeta turned to his right to find Katniss beside him at the bar, her elbows propped up on it, her chin resting in her upturned palms. She had the lightest tread he’d ever known, and oftentimes she crept up on him with him none the wiser until she was already there. Like now.

"You'll already have put in a full day by the time Jo's shift was due to start, Katniss," Ethen said. "You should go home once Rue arrives."

"I should, but I don’t need to. Rue can handle the needs of the hotel guests, sure," Katniss argued, referring to one of the three assistants who worked on rotation with her specifically for the hotel. "But you need a hand, I have no plans, and I worked a bar in college."

"Then I'll need you til about 11," Ethen warned, his initial protestation all but forgotten.

"That's fine," Katniss assured him.

"And I'll pay you double time."

"Even better," she replied promptly.

"Okay, great. There's a spare apron or two in the office, just grab one of those. Thanks Katniss."

She nodded, and turned on her heel, heading in the direction of their office. Initially torn between staying with his brother and going after Katniss, Peeta followed instinct.

"Katniss, wait!" He called after her, and she paused in the entryway to the foyer.

"Yeah?"

"You really don't have to do this. It's not your responsibility to work a double shift. I can help him out, go between the bar and the kitchen for whenever desserts are called."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Peeta, I want to, okay? It's part of working in a place like this - sometimes you just have to pick up to help out, right?"

He hesitated, before nodding. The selfish part of him - the part that wanted her to stay so that he could spend as much time around her as possible - won out.

"Alright. Just...when you get hungry, let me know and I'll make you anything you want. On the house."

"Cheesebuns," she replied without hesitation.

"Really?"

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away shyly. "Yeah. They're my favourite."

"Cheesebuns it is," he said with a smile, absurdly pleased that her favourite was one of his specialities. "They'll be ready for you in the kitchen whenever you want them."

“I’ll look forward to them,” she grinned back.

Later, when he was sliding a tray full of steaming cheesebuns from the oven, he hoped that Gale Hawthorne knew how damn lucky he was to have Katniss Everdeen as his girlfriend.

********

"Go, go, go, go!!”

Peeta heard the chanting before he even stepped into the bar, stopped to survey the scene in front of him once he had, his dirty apron wadded up in his hand. Spread out across the bar were at least a dozen men in various stages of inebriation, and in the centre of it all, Dalton James, a tiara on his head and a flashing badge pinned to his shirt proclaiming him a 'Groom to Be', as he downed a full mug of beer.

Snorting back a laugh, he crossed the room to the bar, slipping under the divider and flashing a smile at Katniss.

"How's it going?" He asked.

"Busy," she replied, her gaze moving quickly over to the group of men. "They're a lively bunch."

"Very true," he agreed.

"Dinner service done?"

"All over by ten thirty. Everyone was having an early night, it seems. Aaran and the other guys are just closing up now."  Looking around the bar and only noting the second server clearing glasses, he frowned. "Where's Ethen?"

"Replacing a keg."

"Ahhh. Definitely a big night." He laughed, and glanced at his watch, noted it was close to eleven. "You should head home now - I can finish up here with Ethen and Bristel."

“Wrong. You should _both_ head on home, you’ve worked long enough. Bristel and I will be just fine on our own, thanks.” They both turned to see Ethen coming out of the store room, wiping his hands on an old dishcloth.

"Are you sure?"

With a gentle shove against Peeta’s shoulder, Ethen shushed them away. “Go, before I change my mind.”

“Quick, grab your purse before he makes us stay,” Peeta staged whispered, grateful he’d had the foresight to grab his phone and wallet from the office on his way to the bar.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Katniss nodded, then reached under the counter for her purse, followed him outside into the cool night air. The rowdy group inside the bar bade them a farewell with a rowdy rendition of the chorus from _Leaving on a Jet Plane_.

"Ugh the fresh air is so good," Katniss murmured once the door behind them had shut, closing her eyes and lifting her face up to the sky.

"You've been stuck in a bar full of sweaty, drinking men for the last two hours, not even including the two hours before they arrived - I'd say any kind of air other than that would be good," Peeta said, and a smile curved across her mouth.

"True," she agreed, opening her eyes and looking at him. "It’s been awhile since I tended bar. Took a little time to get the rhythm back."

"I'm sure Ethen appreciated it. I know I do."

"Anytime," Katniss told him. "I might not have the name Mellark, but I'm part of the team now. You guys have to remember that when you're in a pinch."

He nodded, ignored the small voice that sing-songed in his head _Katniss Mellark Katniss Mellark Katniss Mellark_ over and over again like it was reciting the back of a high school notebook covered in love hearts.

"You want me to walk you home?”

Katniss lifted an eyebrow haughtily. “I’m a big girl, Mellark, I can look after myself.”

“I’m not saying you can’t,” he protested. “I’m just...asking. Thought you might like the company. And I’m only two streets over from you, so it’s not out of my way.”

She ran her teeth along her bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. “Alright.”

They fell into step beside each other, walking in comfortable silence along the quiet streets of Panem. The further they got from _The MA_ the quieter the night became, broken only by the occasional passing car or barking dog. It was nights like this - with clear skies and the promise of fall in the air - that made him grateful that he’d decided to stay in the town he’d grown up in.

“I’m sorry-”

“I didn’t-”

It was almost like a movie, the way they both began speaking at the same time, the way they both laughed awkwardly as a result.

“You go first,” Peeta offered, and Katniss shook her head.

“No, you.”

“I was just going to say I’m sorry if Gale is going to be upset with you for working tonight. I know your time together must be pretty limited, what with your varying hours. So you can blame it all on me.”

Katniss was looking at him as though he had three heads. “Um, one, I had to work tonight because of Jo, so the blame is solely with her. And two, what the hell?”

He blinked. “What do you mean, what the hell?”

“Why would Gale be upset with me for working tonight? If anything he’d be happy. He and Madge could bang all night without the worry of me hearing. The perils of living with housemates who still act like horny teenagers.”

This time, Peeta’s mouth dropped open. “What? Aren’t you and Gale…. _you and Gale_?”

Katniss snorted. “Oh my god, _no_. Why would you even think that?”

He thought back to all the times Gale had come in at the end of Katniss’ shift to pick her up from work, all the times he’d be sitting in the bar, all the times she’d _talk_ about him.  It was obvious he was her boyfriend.

_Wasn’t it?_

“He’s always at work,” Peeta argued. “Picking you up, or waiting for you, or just...hanging around. And you talk about him a lot.”

“Because he’s one of my best friends,” Katniss retorted. “And he picks me up sometimes from work if we have out of town plans with Madge because my car is an unreliable piece of shit. And believe it or not, people actually go to a bar to _drink_.” She stopped under a streetlight, folded her arms across her chest. “But if you have issues with my friends coming to _The MA_ -”

“No!” He lifted his hands up, waved them defensively. “Not at all! Gale’s a nice guy, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I thought you were dating.”

She shook her head. “He’s been dating Madge for the last 5 years. And last week, when he came to pick me up after work, it was to take me shopping so I could help him pick out a ring. I’m not sure what help he thought I’d be because I own zero jewellery…” Her eyes narrowed. “Why would it matter if I was dating Gale, anyway?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Right.”

“Right.” And then the words were spilling out of his mouth before it even registered. “Actually, no, it matters a lot.” _Oh. Oh shit. Holy shit! What had he done?!_

This time, she took a step back. “It does?”

He shook his head frantically, wishing he could take the words back. “No it doesn’t. Forget I said anything. Let’s keep going.” He’d taken a total of four steps when he felt her hand wrap around his bicep, and tug him around. Shrouded in shadow now that they were out of the beam of the streetlight, he could barely see the confusion in her eyes. But it was there.

“Peeta, what’s going on? Why do you have an issue with me dating Gale?” Her voice was full of the same confusion her eyes held.

He swallowed heavily, tried not to focus on the heat that seemed to brand into his arm from her touch. “It doesn’t matter.” _It’s inappropriate, it’s inappropriate! You can’t like her!_

Katniss shook her head then. “Don’t bullshit me, Peeta. Just be honest with me.”

“Fine!” He burst out, lifted his free arm to point at where her hand was still clutched around his bicep. “Can’t you feel that? It’s like my arm is on fire right now. You touch me, and it feels like my entire body is filled with electricity, and... _fuck,_ I sound like a romance novel.” He tugged his arm out of her grasp, turning and stalking away, embarrassment and shame filling him. They were probably going to have to find a new manager, there was no way she was going to stick around-

“Yes.”

Peeta halted abruptly at the sound of her voice, spun on his heel. “What?”

“Yes, I felt that - _feel_ that. I do, every time you brush past me, or hand me a plate, or when I’m fucking up in Excel and you lean around me to help fix whatever function I’ve ruined.” Her voice cracked, and wobbled, and he could see her hands clenched together tightly in front of her. “But I can’t _say_ anything to you, or acknowledge it, because you’re my _boss_ , Peeta.”

“You feel it?” He still couldn’t get past the fact that she could, and she never reacted. _Had Aaran been right earlier that morning? Had Katniss been watching him, like he’d been watching her?_ “But...I could never tell…”

“Trust me, it took a long time for me to get any kind of poker face. In high school, I was a damned open book; people knew what I thought, what I felt, before _I_ did. But I had to learn.” She took a few steps closer to him. “I couldn’t afford to say anything, Peeta. I needed this job. I _wanted_ this job. I didn’t want to go and work at a stupid hotel chain, with its carbon copy lobbies and fake hospitality - I wanted where I worked to feel real. And the moment I walked into _The MA_ , I felt that. So I couldn’t screw it up.”

Peeta could barely comprehend what she was saying, his mind a jumble of thoughts. Right now, though, propriety was last on his list of things to think of. “Well you know what _I_ felt the first time you walked into _The MA_?” Katniss shook her head, and he took a moment to steel himself before speaking. “I felt like I was hit by a truck, like my heart thumped out of my chest like in _The Mask_.”

“Oh, please,” she muttered.

“100% true. Even Ethen and Aaran knew it. They still make fun of me now.”

“They make fun of you for that?”

He took in a deep breath, let it out again slowly, then closed the distance between them. “Well, no, not just that.”

“Then what else do they make fun of you about?”

He reached up, his fingers tentatively touching the curled end of her braid. _What the hell_ , he thought. _I’ve gone this far, it can’t get much worse_. “They like to make fun of me because I haven’t told our Accommodation Manager yet that I’m kind of stupidly crazy about her.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

She blinked again, a weird choking noise coming from the back of her throat. “Uh, Jo likes to tease me too,” she admitted.

“Really?” His heart did a weird nervous stutter in his chest. “What about?”

“She, uh, likes to tease me because I haven’t told one of my bosses that I’m kind of stupidly crazy about him. The youngest one.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the revelations from both of them sinking in. And then, almost simultaneously, twin grins began to spread across their faces.

“I think maybe I should tell our Accommodation Manager that I’m crazy about her,” Peeta finally murmured. His head was almost spinning with the unexpected turn the night had taken.

Katniss shook her head. “I think...I think maybe you should show her,” she replied quietly.

He stepped closer to her, slowly wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her against him. He lowered his mouth to hers, felt Katniss' arms link around his neck.

Peeta didn’t regret working on his day off one single bit.

  



End file.
